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Elementarem Vim by Saxenas1
Vol 9: Chapter 2 - Jackpot

Vol 9: Chapter 2 - Jackpot

Are you sure you want to log out?

As you are unconscious, logging out will not remove your character from game play.

You can only remove your character from game play after gaining consciousness.

In the event of being healed or woken up out of the state of unconsciousness before the stated time, your character will continue to sleep.

Do you still wish to log out?

Lee Jun removed his console gear and looked around. He had twenty minutes to grab something to eat to calm his grumbling stomach before logging back in. Just as he put his gear down near his side table he noticed milk and sandwichs laid out for him. There was a note along with it, it read, “Good Luck! – Mom”

Lee Jun quickly stuffed the sandwich into his mouth and gulped milk to ease the swallow. Wiping his lips clean of any crumbs he quickly dashed towards the bathroom to freshen up. If there was a competition ‘who can get ready fastest?’, Lee Jun would have won it today. He had taken a warm shower to relax his aching muscles and then logged back into the game.

Unconsciousness time remaining - 00:09:12

Weed smiled in his mind excitedly he was curious to know what kind of trouble did he manage to land himself into. He could feel his senses slowly returning to him; he was sitting up right on some sort of high chair as his legs couldn’t feel the ground…and his arms were tied up. Weed realized that he had been blindfolded as he could not open his eyes. His nose and ears were working perfectly and thus he could smell moist earth and hear water dripping in the distance.

Weed could not guess his location from this much information alone but it gave him some idea; [i] ‘Moist earth and dripping water…underground dungeon cliché.’ He thought to himself. But the more he thought about it the more he was convinced this was not some sort of cave but rather the sewers of Lavias.

Weed had plenty of time to research about Lavias during the 8 months away from Virtual Reality. During his many research sessions he happened to come across old blue prints of the city; it provided detailed insights into the city’s sewage network and fresh water supply among many other details. Weed knew for a fact there was no underground water running through the city, most of the wells in and around the city were rain water collection points. There were aquaducts which provided the city water however the aquaduct network ran over ground not under.

Weed frowned slightly; if he was being held in sewage it probably meant his captor did not have access to a proper facility to hold him prison. It was either that or the fact his detention was being done in complete secrecy. Weed doubted it if it was the later and if it was the former it was rather a downer. He was hoping he had been captured by some rich noble or someone with similar social status. It would have atleast provided him with access to the upper echlons of society.

Weed left his thoughts aside as he heard footsteps approaching him. ‘Two…or maybe one person walking briskly…’ Weed counted while trying his best to follow the rhythmic footsteps.

Weed felt his head being violently moved around as his captor removed his head bag forcibly.

‘I was headbagged?’ Weed thought to himself. Every bit of information was vital clue that provided an insight of where he was and in what circumstances. A head bag meant that his captors wanted to move him around without garnering too much attention even within their own ranks.

‘The only thing they could possibly want to cover…is my race…’ Weed concluded. ‘Am I being targeted for being an elf?’ Weed wondered as his blindfold was slowly being removed.

As Weed opened his eyes he was blinded by the intensity of light shone upon him. It took him a while to adjust to the bright light in the room. From what he could tell there were several mirrors in shape of an open oyster placed pointed at his direction. In the center lay a stone like a pearl that dazzled brightly and in turn blinding him from seeing clearly the faces of his captors.

An armored soldier stepped in front of the clam like mirror and asked Weed, "Who're you?"

Weed held back his laughter. The irony of the statement, he wanted to ask his captors the same question. ‘Who are they? And what do they want from me?’

Weed answered, "I am known by many names however most of the times I go by the name Weed."

The soldier made no movement. He did not care what answer Weed had to provide him, he was merely a tool here doing the bidding of his masters.

“Lift his hood.” A wavery shaky old man’s voice croaked from the darkness.

The soldier unsheathed his sword and used the tip of it to remove Weed’s hood. Weed bit his lips anxiously, his white hair had been revealed. There was a faint sound of gasp of astonishment but nothing more.

Weed took the opportunity to get a better idea of his immediate vicinity. He could tell he was tied to a pole or some sort and was sitting on a high stool…other than the mirrors he could only tell he was in some very very dark place. The ground below was grey dirty bricked…which strengthened his theory he had be taken to sewers of the city…but over time Weed had grown a distaste for long unwinding theoretical assumptions.

The soldier moved his sword closer to Weed’s elvish sidelocks. The cold sharp blade had oddly a tickling effect on Weed like ice touching the skin…The soldier lifted Weed’s long hair to reveal his pointed elvish ear.

Once again there was a gasp of astonishment by the old man in the darkness.

“It has been many months since I have last seen an elf…” The old man said from the shadows. “Why are you here elf?”

Weed quickly whipped up an answer, “I have been away from these lands for many a days, I did not know the elves have already left these lands…”

The soldier gave Weed a look that one would usually give to filthy beggar; pure disgust. Weed wondered what was it that he said that invited such an expression.

"I see, so you're a foreigner?" The soldier asked with his sword sliding along Weed’s ear to his adam’s apple.

Weed panicked slightly realizing he was walking on a thin border between life and death. He had to give the right answers with minimal grasp of the situation.

“No! You misunderstand! I am no foreigner!” Weed shouted back. “I have always lived in Lavias City and have just returned from the ruins of Skyholm.”

“Beruth! Lower your sword. This is no Giane Elf (Wood Elf), this is a high elf!” The old man screamed at the soldier.

‘High Elf?’ Weed wondered. ‘There was only one option in the game at the time; Elf…’

Beruth had already lowered his sword at the mention of the Skyholm ruins. There were several rumors floating about the Skyholm ruins; one of them being that there is no return if you visit the Skyholm ruin. In Beruth mind Weed was either lying or a person of great power to have returned from the ruins of Skyholm. Owing to Weed’s infamy and deceit skills, Beruth was inclined to naturally believe that it was the truth.

Beruth slowly took a few steps back, he was careful in not revealing that he was scared of the elf and this wasn’t retreating but rather following the old man’s wishes.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“It has been a while since I saw an elf…how many months has it been?” There was another man in the room, his speech had a hint of nobility to it.

“Yesterday, my lord.” Replied the old man. “The one we crossed during a hunt…”

The darkness hid the newcomers frown, he disliked being corrected or rather being in the wrong. “That was not a meeting but hunting, Arthur.”

“I beg for your forgiveness, my lord, I stand corrected it was indeed hunting now that I think about it.” The old man replied as he rolled his eyes. This appeared to be somewhat of a routine chat that they had. ‘And only yesterday you called it a meeting…’

‘How many people are hiding in the shadows?’ Weed wondered.

“Beruth, please free the elf.” The new person ordered.

“My lord! We haven’t established whether he is is friend or foe! He could be the spy we are looking for!” The old man hobbled over to the newcomer and whispered into his lord’s ear.

The newcomer chuckled. “Come now! Don’t tell me you believe him to be an enemy!”

Arthur, the old man, looked aghast.

The newcomer addressed Arthur’s concerns. “He stands out a bit too much for spy don’t you think? White Hair? Fair skin? Pointy Ears? There would be more eyes following this one than the King himself!”

Arthur bowed his head and retreated; his lord could not be reasoned with.

“Come on Beruth! Free the elf and offer him a new set of clothes. I can’t have some one so ragged and dirty at my tea party…”

Beruth was a bit hesitant to free the elf; after all he was witness to the fact that a member of the elite corps lost consciousness while chasing the elf. There was also the fact that the elf claimed to be returning from Skyholm. Beruth’s guts were telling him that the elf wasn’t cooking this story up.

“Beruth?” The lord asked.

All hesitation disappeared and Beruth cut the ropes open. The stones dimmed and the glaring light which was blinding Weed now illuminated the room as the Oyester shaped mirrors were pointed towards the ceiling. Weed looked around and could see from the chains and bones hanging from the walls that he wasn’t the first visitor to this morbid room.

Weed wasn’t sure what had transpired but he was excited. From the conversation, he could understand that they were pursuing a spy in Lavias City and confused him for one. His appearance of masking his face, wearing hoods and a dirty cape did beg suspicion. Thus, Weed could forget about the entire experience.

What remained was the fact that he in fact had indeed been captured by nobility! He was now also a guest at a tea party! Most players would kill for such a chance without a second thought. Even the top players who had access to nobility took significant amount of time and effort before they had such access. Countless number of pointless quests have to be completed and players must control their rage while satisfying stupid whimps of nobles…only to gain recognition in the nobles circle. To be invited to a tea party…even among the top players only the guild leaders had such privilege owing to their high level of fame.

Weed rubbed his wrists; they were red and sore but Weed didn’t mind. He was looking forward to learning more about this gentleman that the others referred to him as ‘My Lord’. Weed wondered what kind of nobleman had taken him under their care.

‘His voice was fairly gruff and speech was mostly informal…a low ranking noble? Or a commoner who was recently handed the title of nobility?’ Weed could only ponder about these questions. Rodriguez’s key and scroll of Sons of Ivaldi now seemed to be such a distant thought.

As they stepped out of the interrogation room, Weed looked around he wasn’t surprised to find himself in the sewer tunnels. It bothered him slightly that a noble could not afford a proper dungeon in a castle to interrogate him in…but Weed didn’t give it a second thought he wanted to focus on his surroundings now. Weed was memorizing the path as they exited the sewage tunnels.

‘This secret place can become a good hiding place in the future…’ He thought to himself.

As Weed looked on ahead he was surprised that the ‘lord’ was completely fine with such a dirty and smelly environment. ‘No noble would be alright to come down here…this one must be a commoner…’

“Never knew they hid prison rooms in sewers…” Weed joked as he hoped to strike a conversation during this painfully silent and smelly journey zig zagging through the tunnels. The other three continued to remain silent. Arthur wasn’t too happy that they were freeing elf without torturing it first. Beruth was too scared to talk and the lord was walking far too ahead to hear what the elf at the back had to say.

A few more minutes passed by in this fashion till they reached a staircase. The lord smiled as he saw them. “Well then we are here.” He said with a small smile, his unease and displeasure of walking through such a rotten smell was evident.

‘Maybe I underestimated him.’ Weed thought. ‘To have been hiding his displease for such a long time means…this one is quite a good noble? …Argh!! Just who is he?’ Weed wondered as he grew frustrated with the question.

Weed, however, had no longer a reason to be frustrated the answer was revealed to him as they walked up the stairs exiting the sewage tunnels. Weed now found himself in a parlour room with a gigantic painting hung on the wall. It portrayed the young lord on a horse during a hunting expedition with dead monsters all around.

TRRRINNGG!

You have seen a beautiful painting of the young and mysterious Lord of Lavias, Count Richard Donnelley VI, during his hunting adventures!

This adventurous hunting scene will forever be ingrained your memory!

+10% ATK when hunting monster for a week!

Weed reread the message twice. ‘Lord of Lavias…Count Richard…+10% ATK for a week…’

Weed wore an extremely crooked evil grin on his face; if one could read smiles this one read ‘Jackpot’.

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Authors Note:

1. Happy Reading!

2. New Navigation Bar up. :3 All new chapters will have the new bar. Furthermore, at any given time 5 chapters will now remain open for commenting.

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